The Pride of Dol Amroth
by Peri Briar
Summary: Lothiriel comes Minas Tirith to be with her older brothers, gets into a painful spot, in more than one way... (lets face it my summaries suck)
1. Lothiriel

Hey people, so this is my first real fanfic… please don't shoot me.

So unfortunately I did not write lord of the rings, so I think I only own imraleth, if he was written about before, then I don't even get him, but I don't think he was I just made him up

Anyway here goes…..  
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Lothiriel ran through the streets of Minas Tirith, the battle was raging on the lowest level, her brother had been stationed there, despite his wound he had arranged his unit to guard the city, thus if the armies of Mordor did indeed breach the first level, they could fight. His position had been over looked, mainly because the Gondorians believed that to breach their city, the Tower of Guard, was impossible. Lothiriel had known he would do something like this; it was some sort of silly action like that was behind her reasoning to bribe one of the soldiers to bring her here. Well, she was here and he was still fighting, even with that wound. Pushing her way through the crush of people running the other way she ran down the steep hill of the city.

She reached the battle sooner than she expected, and was surprised to find how far the invaders had gotten. Realizing that she would never survive without some sort of defence she grabbed a sword from one of the dead Gondorians nearby. She cut her way through the orcs, barely noticing them in her desire to reach her brother. Shouting his name was ridiculous, how anyone could hear above this racket, was beyond her; she would have to virtually run into him.

But he heard her somehow. Blundering toward her voice Imraleth cut a swath of space through the orcs. They reached each other all of a sudden when the orc between them found himself spitted by two swords, one from the back wielded by a blood covered Knight of Dol Amroth, the other by an unlikely warrior wearing a shift, typical of women of the city.

Brother and sister starred at each other for a moment then at the same time shouted,

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

But at that moment a rather large orc stabbed at Imraleth, he staggered falling against his sister. She staggered in turn and pulled him in to an alcove opening off the street. Sitting him up against the wall she looked around, taking stock of her position. She nodded pleased with herself; they were in what appeared to be an armoury. There were few great spears and lances left but there were a some chain mail tunics mostly small ones, clearly there had been difficulty finding owners for them but they looked about her size. Her brother stirred and she rushed to his side.

"Iri! What are you doing? You shouldn't be here. How did you get here anyway? And why? You're the last one of our line- you should be kept safe in Dol Amroth."

"I came here for you, you idiot. I knew you'd do something like this and now look at you, half dead! I came to protect you; I could never let anything happen to you."

"I'm your older brother. I should be taking care of you, not the other way round."

"Well you aren't."

An orc looked around the door frame and seeing the two humans he dived torward them, Iri whirled and lunged forward, sticking her sword through its gullet. Turning back to her brother she smiled,

"I can take care of you, too. Now be quiet and we won't draw as much attention."

"This is crazy, but if I can't dissuade you at least put on one of those mail shirts, and promise to stay here and not go out and risk yourself needlessly."

Iri raised her perfect brows, but acquiesced, stripping off the blue dress until she was wearing just a corset and light cotton shift. Over this she put the chain mail, clinching in with one of the belts, all of which were too big for her, leaving the end trailing beyond her knees. Picking up a lance to accompany her sword she stationed herself just inside the door.

"Iri, answer me this one question and then I will be silent."

"What?"

"Where did you learn to fight?"

"From you."

"How?"

"I just watched and copied everything you did; I might add here that I'm better than you at sword fighting, though I've only every used light blades, none like this."

"Oh. Well. I see."

"Now be quiet."

So Lothiriel stood there fighting off every orc that came her way, defending her brother. He drifted into unconsciousness from lack of blood after about an hour. So when the troll came he was unable to see as the gigantic beast roared and fought his little sister. He was out cold when the monster ripped the lance from his little sister's hand. He was watching the blackness when the huge brute slammed the lance into his little sister, just as she stabbed up with her sword, through his mouth, his brain, and his skull. He was lost in oblivion as the troll slumped over his little sister, pinned to the wall by the lance. And he was insentient as the black ships sailed up the river, as the field was won and the last of the armies of Mordor were driven to the river and their deaths. But he was still alive, still breathing, as was his sister.

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So I suck at cliffhangers too….

Anyway, please review- I need to know what you all think, otherwise I can't write… not like that's much of a threat, but it is to me. Ok now I need to shut up before I start making sense….

Please review….. puppy eyes


	2. author's note

Ok so I know that this is technically frowned upon but I had to clear up some stuff…..

I swear I will really update soon but right at the moment is tough- I have 3 hours of dance then an hour to finish my bio paper and then an hour each of fencing and sabre then i have to go to the hockey game, add french and maths..... and life gets complicated

So I will change Imraleth's name to Elphir – I'm at boarding school right now and the total of non school related books I have here is zero (0) so I couldn't really check up on the Dol Amroth genealogy (or anything about lotr for that matter)

Also as darling lady scribe of avandell pointed out she has two other brothers- so elphir could have been referring to the collective group as the last of their line ( in England, perhaps not in America when we refer to the last of the line we mean that after the one being referred to there is no one to follow, so even if Imrahil survives he will not have any heirs if they die, after his children there is no one to take up the throne or whatever he sits on- there is no one left in the family, the last generation whatever)

Also the lives of her other brothers are not accounted for at the time therefore they could be either dead or alive, neither of them know. You're not going to take out your entire set of heirs to a battle where they might all die…

The whole hell thing is just a mistake- a useful expression, but on the other hand you use it in the sense that there is as much a living hell as the one you might go to when you die

And anyway where do the poor little orcies go eh?

Also the learning to swordfight thing is actually based on my experience- when my brother was learning I for some convoluted reason figured that I wouldn't be allowed to learn. I really wanted to so I would watch his lessons and then when I had free time I would go and copy what I had seen him doing- my parents only discovered years later and gave me my own lessons then (in addition to the dancing) so if I could do it I don't see why lothiriel couldn't ….

PS don't expect my updates to be meters long, I'm sort of hoping that I'll be doing lots of shortish ones, which might help get them up faster….

But this whole thing is going to be mostly about lothiriel and Éomer so her brothers are only in it to set it all up… but I'll work on the whole accuracy thing, just don't expect it to be perfect

However I'm sure if I get anything really wrong darling lady scribe of avandell can tell me, right?

So thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'll be back soon.


	3. Eomer

again- unfortunately I did not get to any of tolkiens characters first (tear)

So change imraleth to elphir (sorry about that)

I checked the library but their copy is out so I'm afraid I've got to be based mostly on what's in the movie, one of the girls on the hall has all three extended versions….

But no books…..grr

So back to the story……

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Éomer walked down through the city slowly, watching the wounded being born up to the houses of healing and the dead being taken down. Éowyn was resting, he could do nothing for her now. He had watched her sleeping until the healers had told him to leave and get some rest himself. He turned as a soldier shouted to him,

"Here, could you, help? We have to find all the injured and clear out these scum."

Eomer nodded and looked around, the dead orcs were lying all about the streets; he went over to a troll whose body was blocking a little doorway in the wall. Heaving at the massive form he managed to roll it over and into the street. He stopped, and stared. Pinned to the wall of the doorway was a girl, in chainmail, her hand still gripping a bloodied sword that clearly had just been residing in the skull of the troll. Beyond her was another bloody figure. He called to one of the soldiers to come and help him.

"It's the lord Elphir! Quickly, get a stretcher!" the soldier bent over the man in the back of the room. "He's still alive, thank the stars. His father would have been devastated. He loves all his children more dearly than himself."

A stretcher was brought for the young lord. Éomer turned to the girl. He pulled the lance out of her side; it had pierced the chain mail and driven into a small crevice in the wall. Catching her as she fell forward he called for another stretcher.

"She clings to life as well, but it has nearly escaped her. It seems that not only the ladies of Rohan ride to Gondor's aid."

Lord Elphir stirred, his eyes cracking open. Seeing the limp shape of his sister in Éomer's arms he let out a hoarse cry.

"Iri, no this is a dream. You cannot be dead, my sister, my little sister!"

Éomer raised his eyebrows at the soldier and turned to Elphir.

"She is not dead, wounded, yes, but she lives still."

The little procession made its way up the streets of Minas Tirith to the Houses of Healing. There the healers were rushing about tending to the wounded. There were a very many wounded, too. No more beds were left so the soldiers simply placed the stretchers bearing the two children of Imrahil near the door to the gardens and returned to their work clearing the city of orcs.

Éomer sat waiting for the healer, now watching the young girl and her brother. They were both fair, pale skinned and blonde haired, but paler than usual with loss of blood. The girl in especial was almost green. Even her lips lacked colour, they were cracked and bleeding slightly. Her nose, too, it looked as if it might be broken, certainly there was enough blood, and her hair was matted and dirty. Both, he thought, were probably quite beautiful, but in the state they were in it was difficult to tell.

The healer came at last and once again, Éomer found himself told to go rest after staring at a girl sleep. He did this time, after promising to himself to go see all three patients again tomorrow. His sleep was deep and mostly dreamless, except for the dirty white face of a girl who was the sister of lord Elphir of Dol Amroth.

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Lothòiel came to slowly, the world sliding gently into focus around her. She hurt all over. Looking down at herself she noted a rather large bandage on her stomach; she tried to poke it but found that any attempt to move her left arm resulted in increased pain. Closing her eyes she did a quick mental assessment. Toes seemed fine, feet, her shins were fairly bruised but not all bad, thighs were less well off, the right one felt absolutely horrible, her stomach, especially the left side was horrendous, then her left arm felt like her elbow was just about gone, the right, where she had been using her sword, was about to fall off. Her head ached, too. And her nose was broken. She used her left arm to poke the bandage. Mental note- never poke a bandage, from the feel her ribs were cracked and there seemed to be some sort of open wound there as well.

Turning her attention away from herself she surveyed her surroundings. She was clearly in some sort of healing place, but other than that she couldn't tell much. To her right was a rather attractive Gondorian with a bandage on his chest that was practically a work of art. She regarded him for a bit, but decided he wasn't all that interesting. Turning to her left she was both delighted and dismayed to find her brother, Elphir.

Dismayed that he was in a condition requiring treatment but delighted that was receiving it and was next to her, and, she thought, remonstrating herself, she had seen what his condition was earlier, she shouldn't be surprised. His eyes were closed but when she whispered his name they opened and looked at her.

"Wondered when you'd wake up. How are you feeling?"

"Ung", she surprised herself, her vocal cords seemed to have come unconnected, "Awful."

"You look it, remind me of old Caroline."

"I do not!"

Elphir grinned. "Still impressed with you're swordsmanship?"

Iri almost snorted, but caught herself just in time; snorting with a broken nose was probably not a good idea. Instead she made a strange hacking sound in the back off her throat.

"Beginning to sound like her, too."

Iri did not deign that with an answer; to change the subject she asked if Elphir had heard anything of their brothers or father. He hadn't, but he did know something else.

"The King of Rohan found us? He joined the search? We are honoured indeed."

"Don't be silly Iri; he was just helping the men clear the city, there was no search for us. This is war, we have other brothers, and they didn't know you were here. They aren't going to spend time searching for some one who can be counted as expendable.'

"But Father-"

"Would be sad, but he doesn't have the time now."

"I'm sorry."

"I know, you just don't understand war. You're still a girl even if you can fight."

"I thought I did, but it's more complicated than that isn't it."

"It is, get some rest, you still look awful."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Iri, even when you look horrible."

"I'm not going to say anything."

Elphir settled back into the pillows, a slight smile on his lips. But Iri stayed awake, wondering what the King of Rohan thought of a girl going to war.

So I know nothing much has happened yet but I promise we're going to get there  
Please tell me if all three brothers survive, and if they go to the Black Gate….  
So review, review, review, I'm begging you….

And thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, too


	4. Meetings

I'm afraid none of them are mine, cept Dernbrand who I'm pretty sure didn't exist before, or any one in his position…. but anyway

So thanks to everyone who reviewed- please keep sending them in…

And back to iri and eo---

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The next time Iri woke up the rather attractive Gondorian with the chest wound was replaced with an even more attractive Rohirrim with his shoulder done up in a neat white package. Elphir was still on her other side, but this time he was really asleep, and she decided she didn't want to wake him. Instead she studied the Rohirrim.

He was very good looking. His nose was perfectly straight, his jaw was strong and dusted gold sparkles from his unshaven stubble. He had a slight sprinkling of freckles, which only enhanced his well tanned skin. His hair fell thickly across the pillow, a soft dark gold with slight hints of red.

A healer walked up and tapped him on the his good shoulder. She spoke softly in his ear and at a nod from him stepped back leaving another Rohirrim with him. They greeted each other with a certain degree of relief, the strange language they spoke rolling over Iri like wind and sea. She closed her eyes listening to it. The unintelligible sounds forming pictures of endless plains, the long grass waving in the breeze. She smiled, if their land was anything like their language she would have loved to go there. Opening her eyes again she watched the two talking.

They must be brothers, she thought, they look so alike. The visitor got up to leave, but as he did so his eyes flicked over to her and then grinning said something to his brother, bringing out a matching grin on his face.

When his brother had left the wounded man turned to Iri and smiled,

"My name is Dernbrand; my brother said you were watching us."

"Loth�riel."

"What brings you here? Did you get caught in the battle?"

"No, I fought."

This surprised him. "But you are a lady."

"I am."

"It seems that war with Mordor brings all out to fight. We had our own lady come to the battle. The lady Eowyn, who is sister to our king, came as well, though we did not know of her riding until the king found her lying as if dead on the field."

"But she is not dead then, is she?"

"No, the lord Elfstone healed her, she slew the lord of the Nazgul and from him took great hurt. But she is healing now, in these very houses."

"I would be honoured to meet her. Do you know her? Or her brother, he rescued me from being crushed by a troll."

"The lord Eomer saved you, you are indeed honoured. He is sought by every maiden that meets him."

Lothiriel laughed, "His condition sounds similar to mine."

"In what way?"

"We both are high born and in useful positions if anyone wishes to gain access to our lords. Or I suppose in his case merely his power."

"You injure him; it is not merely for his power that he is sought."

"Oh."

Their conversation continued for some time until the healer returned to tell them both to rest. But after that they had many conversations, about many things.

Éomer sighed; his time to himself was becoming far too sparse for his liking. He barely got time to see Eowyn much less the Dol Amroth girl. Her battered face haunted his thoughts. It was not as if there weren't plenty of other women vying for his attention, in fact at times he didn't seem to be able to escape them. Why was his mind always drawn to her? He forced himself to return to the discussion going on around him. They were to ride for the Black Gate then. The probability of returning was miniscule.

As soon as he was able he made his way once again to the Houses of Healing where after assuring himself that Eowyn was well and in no condition to follow the host this time, he went to see the girl from Dol Amroth. She was asleep when he got there but he settled himself nearby and watched her.

His guesses had been correct, she was absolutely enchanting. Perhaps a little impish for true classical beauty, but to his eyes this only enhance her features.

"Are you the King Éomer then?"

Éomer turned surprised. There was a man standing just behind him, regarding him with steely grey eyes. The lord Amrothos's gaze unnerved Éomer for some reason.

"I am."

"Then I believe both my sister, brother and I owe you our deepest thanks."

"It was nothing. Your sister's name is Loth�riel?"

"Lady of Dol Amroth. Though perhaps she would not add that."

"You are lucky to have such a sister. One who would defend you to the death. As mine is."

"Lucky? One might say so. Though there are times when I count my scars and bruises that one might not. I had heard your sister rode, too. I think they would get along quite well if we dared let them near each other."

Éomer's eyes returned to the sleeping Loth�riel.

"You're another one aren't you?."

"Another what?"

"You're going to end up just like the rest, you know. She hasn't said yes to anyone. And I have high doubts she will soon. You're in love with her and you don't even realize it until your heart is broken."

"Have there been very many others?"

"Dozens. And then another set that wants to marry the Princess of Dol Amroth. She groups them all under the same banner, though. She's to naïve to understand what she can do."

"Will you help me?"

"I can try. I can't guarantee anything. And let me tell you if I find you have been even looking at her without every intention being honourable… there will be nowhere on this earth you can hide. Her other brothers will be less helpful or more depending on how they take to you. You'd better get on Elphir's good side though. Other wise you'll get nothing."

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I know I promised that things would get going but I just need to get them back from the Black Gate and it's taking rather longer than I thought.

By the way I hope you like Iri's brothers- they're all based on mine

cept I have 4 and they will be absolutely devastated if you don't like them…


	5. Leavings

Yes 4 brothers, one 4 years older, twins 3 years older and one 2 years older than me

My parents were busy

LSOA (and everyone) - sorry about the Loth�riel/lothoeil it comes up right on my computer then switches when I upload, I thought I fixed it but apparently notscreams with frustration also I always imagined them with blond hair…. weird whatever, I think I'll leave her that way though- I don't think it matters that much, it's not like the story's about her hair…

And returning to eo and Iri….

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Loth�riel stood over the gates of the city, watching as the host going to Mordor rode out. Dernbrand stood next to her, pointing out the lords he knew, he had shown her Éomer first and she kept half an eye on him, the rest noting her brothers as they trotted along, perfectly in time with each other. She waited until the last of the riders was a mile beyond the gate before turning and allowing Dernbrand to help her down. She could walk a little but still needed help. Dernbrand was mostly healed but hadn't been allowed to ride with the company; he was to stay and guard the city.

She pocketed her disappointment: she still hadn't met King Éomer, hadn't even seen him to really look at. Though her brother and Dernbrand said he had come to see her once or twice. She sighed, shallowly to not jostle her healing ribs; she could already tell this waiting for them to return would last an eternity.

Éomer mulled over things in his mind. Eowyn was safe, for now at least, he was going to what would probably be his death, and he hadn't even gotten to speak with Loth�riel. That was silly, where did that thought come from, he'd barely met her, he hadn't met her. Suddenly two matched knights came up on either side, wearing the blue of Dol Amroth. One he recognized as Amrothos, the other must be the third brother- Erchirion. They were grinning as if they didn't know they were in armour, much less in Mordor.

"We've decided to help you-"

"With Loth�riel, of course-"

"I convinced Erchirion-"

"Not that I needed much-"

"He owes her one after the thing with-"

"We don't need to go into that."

"Basically-"

"Loth�riel needs-"

"To get into something-"

"Way above her head."

I know- really short but I had to get something up and I have five million other things to do as well… I promise the next will be longer… Keep reviewing please!!!


	6. Fiance

We always wondered if jkr had met will and fred( my brothers) I mean add magic and change will to george…. And there you go. The Weasley twins! (without the hair and freckles.) also sorry not to get this up sooner we have a dance performance coming up and rehearsals have taken up just about every spare minute meaning I barely have time for sleeping much less homework or fun…. Add yet another French test and I'm swamped. My costume is an absolute confection by the way…

so nothing else….

Except my disclaimer which I think I forgot on the last chapter…. In case you haven't noticed I did not write the lord of the rings so unfortunately I don't own anyone…

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Lothòiel stood once again above the gates of Minas Tirith. She gazed eagerly across the plains, they had had forerunners arrive two days ago to say the army was returning, victorious, with the Ringbearer and his faithful companion. And her brothers.

She had been endlessly bored during her stay in the Houses. Though at first she had spent some time with her cousin, Faramir, she had soon realized that his attention was only for Eowyn, indeed he spoke of nothing else. Elphir was with their father up in the citadel and Dernbrand was guarding the city. In other words she had nothing to do and no one to do it with.

She could see them in the distance: a slight haze of dust on the road from Osgiliath. She was soon joined by several other impatient men and women to welcome the warriors home. The haze soon became distinct figures and Lothòiel was able to pick out her own brothers among them. But who was that with them, he wore a tall white plumed helmet. He was clearly comfortable with them, he was riding easily and suddenly she realized she knew the figure: Éomer, king of Rohan.

Lothiriel wasn't quite sure what to do, before she had been eager to meet the king but now, she wasn't so sure. There were stories she had heard about him, nothing that should bother her, little things, his love for women, his outbursts of absolute vulgarity. She ran her tongue over her teeth, turned, and left the wall. She didn't want to see him, though why, she didn't know.

She spent the rest of the day in the Houses, she wanted to see her brothers but she couldn't see the king. Berating herself for the ridiculous and unwarranted feelings toward him she wandered through the gardens.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"Amrothos!"

Her brother grinned and embraced his sister. "Well both of us are back safe, as is your fiancé."

"What? I don't have a fiancé. But where's Erchirion?"

"He's fine- a slight scratch, being wrapped up."

"And who, pray, is my fiancé?"

"Éomer, of course."

"I must say he is a rather good prospect."

"Erchirion!"

"Always here for you."

"Really? Then tell me what this parody our dearest brother has cooked up is."

"The parody is fact."

"We were planning something after what you-"

"did to me. But we hadn't quite perfected it-"

"then when we got back here-"

"we found that father had been doing the same thing."

"You're not… serious. This is a joke. I'm not marrying anyone. Not now."

"Look, Iri you have-"

"no choice. The way we were planning it-"

"you would have anyway,"

"and he's a good man."

"No, no, no, no, no. I will not, I refuse. Why did he do this to me anyway?"

"He realized-"

"just what would have happened-"

"if we had died. And Éomer-"

"needs an heir, there are weddings-"

"being planned for us too."

"Iri, listen,"

"this was inevitable,"

"at least he is who he is and not…"

"some oaf."

She didn't listen to them. Her mind was spinning. At first she had been excited to meet this man, then she had been uneasy, but never had she downright hated him, for all the stories she had heard, she had been sure there had explanations for everything. Now there was nothing, she hated him, more then anything else in the world. She had never met him and she was to marry him on a whim of her father's upon the revelation that the race of men is frail.

"The wedding is set,"

"it will occur-"

"just after the coronation."

"You'll meet him-"

"tonight."

Her heart seemed to have stopped beating. The world stood still. After the coronation. That was, what, two weeks, three perhaps? No time at all. Her life would end in three weeks, less than a month. And tonight. Barely hours away, she glanced at the sky, evening was already falling. The sun descending in a blaze of red. Tonight then, and three weeks later, the wedding. Don't think about it, just live through tonight, there will be some way out of it. _She _would not be forced into a marriage against her will to a man she didn't love. She would never forget what had happened to Beliath. That would never happen to her.

* * *

Éomer walked confidently through the doorway. He was finally going to meet her, and not only that she was going to be his wife in less than a month. He stood at the head of the hall beside Aragorn and Arwen, and there she was. A fragile figure in blue and silver floating on her brother's arm. She looked like spun glass. It seemed to take forever as she swayed up the hall, each moment he was afraid that a breeze would blow her away. She was standing in front of him; the herald was announcing her and her brother. He took her hand in his own and slowly raised it to his lips. Her hand was small, finely boned and pale, and ice cold. Touching it made all his nerves send a thrill down his spine. She looked up at him then, a quick glance at his face, their eyes met. Her eyes were huge and wide and deep blue, highlighting her slightly pointed features.

For just a moment they held each other in their gaze, and then they both looked away. For the rest of the evening and into the night he watched her. Yet somehow their paths never seemed to cross, someone was always just between them, something called one of them away just as they drew close. To Éomer this dance seemed a metaphor for their entire relationship thus far. Just as he was beginning to loose all hope of even speaking to her Amrothos appeared by his side.

"This way. She's been avoiding you, silly girl."

Éomer just had time to see Erchirion bowing to his sister before both brothers disappeared and he was left face to face with Lothòiel as the music for the next dance began. There was nothing to do but accept his offer and so they went through the movements of the dance together, somehow graceful and awkward at he same time. Not a word was said.

As the music ended Éomer opened his mouth to say something but before he could even draw breath to speak she was gone, out of the hall, down the stairs and away.

Éomer started to follow her but another lady caught his arm and before he knew what was happening he was whisked off to another dance. He felt vaguely buffeted about after he managed to escape yet another simpering noblewoman and retreat into a side alcove. He almost screamed when Amrothos and Erchirion appeared beside him yet again.

"You haven't-"

"done well."

"In fact, you-"

"almost failed."

"But now you have-"

"to follow her."

"And where do you think I should start looking?"

"She'll have taken a horse-"

"and gone west as far as possible-"

"She always does-"

"and when she can't go west anymore-"

"she'll go north."

"Now get going."

"Otherwise you'll be ages."

And once again Éomer found himself in a situation he with no idea quite how he had gotten there. Riding west with no real idea what to do when he found her.

* * *

It was an hour later that he found Lothòiel. She was standing on the edge of a lake, her dress billowing about her slim form.

"My lady."

She did not answer. He tried again. Still she did not move. He went to and tapped her on the shoulder, she whirled, her face furious, eyes flashing.

"Why have you done this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You do not even know me and yet before you have even time to remove you armour from the Black Gate we are betrothed. Without a word to me. Not even a hint that I might be getting married at any time."

"It was as much a surprise to me as to you; the same might be said of my position. I was not an hour back before I was told that I must marry."

"At least you were given a choice. I was given nothing."

"True, but of all the ladies presented you were the only one I had any kind of connection with."

"I will never marry."

"You are a woman; there is no choice." He was definitely losing his temper.

"I will give myself a choice; there is always a choice."

She was screaming now, her angry voice carrying across the lake and echoing back at them. Éomer almost stepped back but controlled himself. He was being silly, she was a girl. She couldn't hurt him. All she was doing was screaming. Quite effectively.

"There is none here."

"I will never marry you, King of the Mark, never."

"At least you are marrying me and not some Easterling savage from Rhun. Another lady would have been grateful, but not you. Only the best will do, would Aragorn satisfy you, or is even he too low, Legolas, perhaps, an elf lord. There is none high enough for you. Swallow your pride for once, princess, I am the highest you will climb, a mere mortal king."

"My father would never have wedded me off to an Easterling."

"They didn't tell you?" he was surprised now, some of the anger gone. "I was given a choice of three ladies; if I declined you then you would be wedded to an Easterling indeed. They wished for peace and they saw it in you. But in thinking of you I believed you might not have liked that. What a strange idea that was, you with feelings. I see now you would have been suited there, they are a wild people too."

She had no response to this. She simply stared at him, it seemed to him that it was for a minute at least. Then she collapsed in a heap, sobbing into her hands.

Ok well that was fun- and they finally meet, not quite under the circumstances they would wish but…. Can't have everything can you?

So the next one might take a bit so I apologise in advance- dance performance, fencing match, eldest brother coming (does little dance) and hockey game- I've become besotted with hockey here in America

So thanks to all of the people that have reviewed and please keep doing so…

I thrive on reviews. So please please please… REVIEW ( I does ask, and if that's not nice enough, I begs- sam gamgee, love that line, remember that from the first time I read them, not really sure why…)


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